some words to go with the pics

CARMYMACMUSICPHOTOS ETC...this is a blog to go with the music photos i take in and around amsterdam (previously it was leeds, and sometimes it is elsewhere). my photos can also be found on flickr and tumblr. i also have a website which is on hold...one day it might come back to life. all photos are copyright of me.

Friday, September 21, 2012

cheek mountain thief

{aka the story of how my dream of playing glockenspiel with a band, on-stage, for one night only, came true in utrecht, the day after my birthday in september, thanks to this very lovely icelandic band}(this story/these words were also published on an icelandic website, see here)(and the gallery of photos appeared on drownedinsound.com, see here) Falling in love with Iceland – it’s not hard to do. Its mystical landscape and
the unfathomable number of musicians per head of the country’s
population are amongst some of the many awe-inspiring facets of this
magical land. I fell under its spell after my first trip although, it
has to be said, I didn’t fall quite as hard as Mike Lindsay, lead singer
of the somewhat experimental folk outfit, Cheek Mountain Thief.It took Mike a few years before he up-rooted himself from his London
life and moved his whole kit and caboodle to live in Reykjavik. It’s a
long story that began over 6 years ago, which then transmogrified into a
bright spark of an idea that would see Mike travelling northwards in
2011 to the small fishing village of Húsavík for a unique musical experiment.He arrived in Húsavík with no preconceived ideas and little
equipment, recording in a makeshift studio on whatever he could borrow
from locals. After two months, the beginnings of an album were
conceived, shaped by the people of Húsavík’s small community and backed
up by a cast of Icelandic musicians, including the local school’s
marimba band. With the breathtaking landscape around Húsavík as a
constant source of inspiration, Mike recalls, “I remember feeling like
we were in a mythical wonderland.” From the village there is a view of
Kinnarfjöll – Cheek Mountain – from where the band gets its name, along
with the self-titled LP which was released in the summer of 2012. Mike
befriended a country and was impelled to write an album that is story of
a land and its people, borrowing inspiration from his experiences
living there, which is actually where the ‘thief’ bit of the name comes
from.Having played a number of shows in Iceland, Mike and his merry band
of Icelanders – Lára, Leifur, Hannah, Gunni, Birkir and Óskar –
recently had a brief sojourn to the UK and mainland Europe last month to
promote the album. Which is where I come in, and where this chapter in
the story begins of how I got to borrow something from the band and take
away a magical memory.Since I failed to see Cheek Mountain Thief at last year’s edition of
Iceland Airwaves, I had been keen to hear the new album upon its release. So
when I discovered the band would be playing in Utrecht on the last day
of the tour, I bought my ticket to the gig quick sharp. On listening to
the album and hearing some glockenspiel sounds, it reminded me of my own
long-standing dream that I’ve had for a few years now – to play
glockenspiel on stage with a band for one night only.

Next, I discovered a friend of mine was interviewing Mike for his radio show the
week before the gig, my own bright idea was born. So yes, I put it out
there that if Cheek Mountain Thief wanted an “emergency” glockenspiel
player in Utrecht, I was at the ready. And the next thing I knew,
numbers were being exchanged, texts were being sent and I had my first
glock job! It wasn’t until I was outside the venue speaking to Mike that he
discovered that (a) I wasn’t actually this reputed glockenspiel player
who lived in Holland that he thought I was, and (b), I was just a girl
with a crazy idea, who wasn’t technically a musician (i.e. not a
musician at all), and couldn’t actually play the glockenspiel but was
willing to give it ago.

I think one of the first things I said to him was, “It’s a bit
bonkers, isn’t it?” To which he replied, “Yes, but if it wasn’t quite so
bonkers, we wouldn’t have said yes.” Once inside the venue during the
sound check – where everyone in the band was so incredibly friendly and
welcoming to me – Mike picked up his guitar and Leifur the keyboardist
picked up the glockenspiel and I was taught the parts that I would play
during the last song of the night on the borrowed glock.Fast forward an hour and I’m stood enjoying the gig and listening to
the band, who sounded amazing – even more fuller than on record – and
hearing the stories behind each song: about the one pub in Húsavík (that
is only opened on Saturdays in the winter), about the Kaffibarinn
Choir, and about how the horses stand up to keep warm – one of my
favourite lines from the album that really conjured up an image of
Iceland for me. I almost forget that soon I will be up on stage with
this bunch of talented musicians.

Actually, I didn’t forget at all – I was quite excited to have a go
at this, scary as it was (yes, I was actually a little bit scared, but
in a good way!). After a very warm and wonderful introduction from Mike,
I had the pleasure and privilege of joining the band on stage for
“Snook Pattern.” It was quite a weird feeling being up on stage, but it
was fantastic with everyone being so welcoming and encouraging. I had so
much fun that now every time I hear that song (especially “my bit”), it
puts a smile on my face.

I have no doubt that everyone who sees Cheek Mountain Thief will have
their own magical story to tell. Mike tells his tales in such an
endearing manner, interweaving the story of the album and the background
to each song, which added an extra dimension to the whole experience
and really made for a special gig. I found it truly inspiring and I
can’t wait to see the band playing on home turf during Airwaves. Perhaps
if we’re lucky, at one of the upcoming gigs (the band will do one
festival show and two off-venue shows), some of the many other Icelandic
musicians who recorded with the band on the album will make guest
appearances. If we put the idea “out there,” it might just happen! (post-airwaves edit: and it did!)more pics and videos on flickr! :)x

Monday, September 17, 2012

into the great wide open

{itgwo = magical, magnificent, a hidden treasure}

On
an island in the northern Netherlands is a little-known festival
called Into The Great Wide Open, which takes place in early
September. It’s a weekend away from it all that takes you back to
nature – there are no cars allowed on the island of Vlieland and
everyone cycles from the campsites to the festival site, with its
stages dotted around in the woods, on the beach (sometimes impromptu)
and up on the hill next to the lighthouse. Many of the international
acts who play this charming festival get hooked; sure, they may never
have heard of it when they first got asked to play but once there,
it’s not easily forgotten. Norwegian artist Erlend
Øye,
who headlined the opening night on a new stage at this year’s
edition (the fourth), was playing for his third consecutive year and,
now that it’s over, there’s another bunch of artists already
wanting to head back next year.

This
beautiful and magical affair is a ‘precious secret’ according to
Paul
Thomas Saunders,
who played in a natural amphitheatre in the woods on the Sunday
afternoon, the perfect setting for an acoustic gig. The sun-dappeled
crowd was captivated by Saunders’ stripped-down sounds, himself a
delightful surprise for many of those watching who quite possibly
hadn’t heard of him before. Before his set, some people sitting
amongst the pines with a lunchtime beer in hand might have been
disappointed that they hadn’t got one of the pre-allocated tickets
for Perfume
Genius,
playing in a church elsewhere on the island at the same time, only to
discover this young talent from Leeds as their highlight of the whole
festival.

And
of highlights there were many, not all of which were musical – as
this is also an event with a full arts programme incorporated. One
memorable point for me was at sunset on the Saturday evening when,
whilst walking across the dunes, there was a big commotion happening
down on the beach, which turned out to be a welcoming party of
chanting children waiting for the arrival of a dragon – that, in
true Blue Peter style, they’d made earlier out of tissue paper and
bits of wood – being delivered by a beach-buggy JCB, only for it to
be set alight as an unexpected bonfire.

The burning dragon on the beach

Meanwhile, alongside this on the same stretch of beach, members of the Dutch band Spinvis were lugging (with some difficulty) all their amps and instruments down to the strand for a night-time gig. This is one of the many enchanting aspects of the whole weekend, in that unexpected gigs and happenings can take place just about anywhere, at any time.

I
am sure I missed out on some really random musical moments (maybe I
didn’t get out into the wilds enough) but I did happen upon some
delightful acts in some beautiful settings, like The
Staves
amongst the trees by the Armhuis and Daughter
on the stage by the lighthouse – not that I actually saw Daughter,
more heard their melodies drifting up the hill. It seems this was one
act that was quite an attractive prospective for many of the Saturday
afternoon music-seekers and the stage was over-capacity as soon as
the band started to play but that didn’t stop the crowds – they
just kept coming and from my vantage point by the lighthouse, they
were like ants swarming over the hills.

Discovering
bands on one of the smaller stages who had already played elsewhere
(or were yet to play) was another highlight of this festival – it
seems that maybe there is some unwritten agreement between bands and
the festival organisers that says, if you get the urge to play again,
just do it! So having missed all of these acts the first time round,
I managed in an intimate setting to get to see: Reggie Watts and his entertaining characters from indeterminate lands, We
Were Evergreen’s
Franco indie pop and
Holland’s very own post-punk rockers Rats
on Rafts.

In the a mixing-it-up-kinda-way, Rats on Rafts were one of the bands that had a surprise guest join them on stage. Alex Kapranos from Franz Ferdinand played guitar for one song, before he headed on over to the main stage a few hours later to entertain the crowds with the rest of his band mates.

Prior to Franz’s hit-filled set on the main stage was James
Vincent McMorrow.
This was the first time I’d seen the Irish troubadour with a full
band albeit without a drummer, who it turns out had buggered off to
Barbados. McMorrow was therefore additionally carrying out drumming
duties, which he was clearly nervous about, yet it added an endearing
quality to the well-rounded set. Concurrently Ben
Caplan
was wowing the crowds in the woods and, after all the reports I heard
of that gig, I’m quite sad to have missed out on it (but then
again, there are numerous acts I was sorry to miss, Angel
Olsen
being one of them but I was seeing a dragon being set alight then, so
I can’t complain!). Probably the glory time on the main stage, for me (bearing in mind I missed the Sunday eve due to an early departure for the mainland), started at teatime on Saturday in the sunshine with Alt
J,
followed-up by Of
Monsters and Men
and topped off with a bit of Woodkid
– the only band I saw with visuals, and rather impressive ones at
that.

My
favourite stage (not that I found them all) was without doubt Naar
Buiten, the amphitheatre in the woods, and my musical-related
highlight was possibly when I was walking towards this stage in the
dark, under a falling-star-filled Friday night sky, heading to see
none other than The
Deep Dark Woods,
the most magnificent setting ever for some late-night Canadian
Americana (if that’s an allowable phrase).

Into
The Great Wide Open is a festival that is aptly named, although it
could also be called ‘Head Into The Forest and Follow The Music’,
which is exactly what Paul Thomas Saunders was told when he arrived
on the island and was searching for the Naar Buiten stage – bizarre
instructions you might think but he and his band mate did just that
and managed to reach their destination. And when asked if anything
else bizarre had happened or if he’d had any strange occurrences,
his response made me smile, summing up this absolute treasure of a
festival succinctly, ‘Waking up and finding Willis
Earl Beal
sleeping in the hammock next to us was a highlight for sure.’

Bye for now Vlieland, I too hope to be back next year! & thanks to everyone at team-ITGWO for making it happen. a few more shots are on flickr here.x